


Now I’m a spinning 33

by sloganeer



Series: kaná:ta' still means "town" in Mohawk [7]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Canon Canadian Character, Canon Queer Character, Future Fic, Inspired by Music, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:35:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23729152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sloganeer/pseuds/sloganeer
Summary: Footloose and fancy freeNow I’m a spinning 33Complete devotionIs that the cost of love’s commotion?Joel Plaskett, "On & On & On"
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose, Patrick Brewer/Rachel
Series: kaná:ta' still means "town" in Mohawk [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1686322
Comments: 2
Kudos: 68





	Now I’m a spinning 33

**Author's Note:**

> Yesterday, my favourite singer-songwriter, Joel Plaskett (Canadian, of course), released a 4-record epic to celebrate his 44th year. It just so happens that Noah Reid is coming up on his 33rd birthday. Perfect timing for Patrick Brewer to make a triple album, like Joel did for his 33rd birthday 11 years ago.

Patrick is downstairs in the living room, noodling with his guitar and playing records, when his phone buzzes harshly against the coffee table. He leans over to check. It’s from David. Now that they live on more than one floor, David has reverted to some of his previous mansion-life habits.

**David:** you know my rule mr brewer  
  
**David:** if you’re gonna listen to that twangy music on repeat kindly do it somewhere else  


He laughs, because David isn't wrong. But Joel Plaskett’s new record came out today, and it’s all Patrick wants to hear. How is he supposed to take in four records, eight sides, 44 songs in the time it takes his husband to plan the week's outfits?

At the end of side four, Patrick puts his guitar back in its case. He lifts the record off the player and slides it back into the envelope. He has the album on his phone, too.

“I’ll go for a drive,” he shouts up the stairs.

David replies. “Pick up dinner on your way home!”

In the car, out on the long straight roads that lead out of town, Patrick finishes listening to the new record. But he’s not ready to head home yet. He puts on Joel’s last ambitious birthday project, 33. Patrick was almost 22 when it was released. He was with Rachel—or maybe they were on a break. A lot of those memories are mixed-up, like Patrick back then. But he remembers listening to this album a lot.

This was what he wanted to do with music. A fully-formed idea, not just a list of clever phrases. Medium and message spun up together into a triple album concept.

But Patrick didn’t make music. He played songs, and nothing he wrote himself was as good as the ones he covered at the campus open mic night.

Piano had come first for him, with the lessons when he was 9. It was piano first because Patrick’s grandparents had decided to move to a smaller house, Patrick’s mother couldn’t bear to see the piano go, so it was moved into their basement. He took lessons with a woman who lived down the street, who worked around Patrick’s baseball practices.

In high school, he picked up the guitar because guitar was cool and piano was not. It was also portable, hitching along to summer bonfires, then university, those tiny rooms in shared derelict houses, and finally, the long road between Toronto and Schitt’s Creek.

A motion sensor flicks a light on as Patrick drives around a tight corner. He slows to look, then stops. It’s an old out-building at the edge of the Good farm, too small to be a barn, too far away from the main house to be useful. Patrick spies a FOR RENT sign above the door.

He gets out of the car, and before he can talk himself out of it, grabs his phone and takes a picture. He can call in the morning, ask about the space. It won’t be anything built for recording, but the acoustics will be interesting.

Last week, Patrick made up a quick flyer—nothing fancy, just question and his phone number. He had asked around the baseball team, but no one else seemed to play an instrument. Still, he's sure there must be musicians here in Schitt’s Creek, people who are more serious than playing a few covers at the Apothecary once a month.

Patrick has been thinking about what he wants to do with music, and his 33rd birthday is coming next month.


End file.
